Send Nudes: A MMF Bisexual Romance Page 5

  I don’t have fancy shoes, so I take my red-tinged sneakers and return to the living room to see Sophia already holding her handbag, ready to follow me.

  “You don’t have to do this with me, babe,” I say. “This is my battle, not yours. I don’t want you getting in the crosshairs.”

  Sophia frowns. “I’m kinda hurt that you’d even consider going without me. Look, I promised to represent you, didn’t I? So, let me. I’ll stand beside you in case they try to intimidate you.”

  I smile back at her and nod.

  We make our way out of the apartment building. I don’t bother locking my apartment because, frankly, who’s going to steal a bunch of washed-up couches, utensils, and used clothes? Plus, the locksmith I called to fix my lock hasn’t shown up.

  I think it may have something to do with the fact that I’m probably going to have to owe him until my next pay. I have the reputation.

  We take Sophia’s battered Ford truck out of the projects and into the heart of the city. As soon as we hit downtown, where you have most of the big firms in the city, we slow to a coasting speed.

  “We’re starting with Sinful, right?” Sophia asks, pointing at a high rise.

  The words SINFUL are splayed across the top of the building.

  The building is as majestic as the company itself. It even has a spire that towers higher than the topmost level.

  Sophia pulls into the underground garage as she’s directed to the nearest available parking spot. There are a lot of fancy cars in the garage, and it all speaks of how profitable it must be working for Sinful.

  Before I can even begin to think twice of my reasons for coming here and start considering working for Sinful, I pull out my phone and begin Googling the company.

  I open a Wikipedia article dedicated to them, and I do a light read up on the company. I take note of the CEO, Derek Hemsworth. Now I know who to ask for when I get to the reception.

  Once we find a parking spot, we hightail it to the service elevator, which takes us up to the ground floor. The moment I walk into the massive lobby, I’m immediately intimidated.

  Massive columns support the vaulted ceiling. The place is chilled to the bone, which starkly contrasts the burning temperature outside.

  Everyone in sight is classily dressed, and everyone is pleasant in greeting me as they pass by. The ladies at the marble counter in the center of the massive reception beam at me as I approach them.

  I clear my throat, refusing to let the warm atmosphere douse my rage.

  For good measure, I slam my fist onto the counter and yell, “I demand to see Derek!”

  The lady I speak to doesn’t even flinch. It seems as though she gets this a lot.

  “Do you have an appointment, ma’am?” she asks pleasantly.

  I take the card from Sinful and slam it on top of the counter for her to see. I say, “There’s my fucking appointment!”

  As soon as the lady sees the card she looks back up at me. “You’re Diana?”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  She then points at the bank of elevators to the right corner behind the counter. “Please take the last elevator on the right. It’ll take you straight to Mr. Hemsworth’s office.”

  The lady makes to say something else, but I’m done listening. I grab the card and stalk off, with Sophia in tow.

  We have to wait for a moment for the elevator to arrive. As it does and the doors open, there’s commotion behind as someone rushes into the building, yelling.

  I don’t wait to see who it is. I don’t give a fuck. All I care about now is giving Derek a piece of my mind.

  We take the elevator and ride it for about three minutes before we get to the top floor. We’re deposited in a large foyer and are immediately confronted with a stunning view of the city through a floor–to-ceiling window.

  Comfy-looking chairs—chairs that could probably buy my apartment building in the projects—line another side of the large foyer. There’s a door on the opposite side of the foyer right behind a large desk.

  A lady sits there, hard at work on her computer.

  I walk over to her. I’m not smiling.

  “I want to see Derek!” I demand.

  She’s startled at first, shooting to her feet at my outburst.

  Beneath my skin, I prickle with shame at how I’m treating these employees, but the rage I’m feeling drowns out all the rest. All I want to do is deliver my message, get my apology, and be out of this goddamn building.

  “I’m sorry, lady, but you’ll have to calm down!”

  “I don’t want to calm down,” I retort. “I want to see Derek!”

  “Calm down, lady, or I’ll have to call security!” she replies, her voice raised. Her face has already descended into a frown.

  “I want to see your fucking CEO or I’ll tear this place apart!”

  Trust me, I don’t know where that came from, it just did. Even the lady is taken aback by my bold proclamation.

  She switches gears and says, “Who are you?”

  Before I can answer, the door opens and out walks Derek Hemsworth. I’m almost paralyzed to my knees. The photos I’d seen in the Wikipedia articles don’t do justice to this man’s body!

  I take a few steps back, bumping into Sophia who steadies me. Before I can speak, the elevator opens and another man rushes into the foyer.

  “No fucking way you’re signing with that asshole,” he booms, his masculine voice causing my body to shudder.

  I immediately recognize the voice. It’s the exact same voice I’d heard in the lobby right before I entered the elevator.

  I turn to see who it is.

  It’s Kane from Lush.

  9

  Derek

  The phone commands my attention again.

  I itch to make a call to reception once more to ask if they’ve spotted Diana. But I don’t want to come off as being too antsy, so I fight the urge. It certainly isn’t good for my image if I seem too impatient.

  Still, I really do want to know.

  I’m expecting it at any moment. My mail should have gotten to her house by now. She should have read it already.

  I don’t know. Sometimes it’s hard to figure out America’s postal system. It’s almost as difficult as figuring the occult ways in which the fucking IRS works and shit.

  I’ve called down a couple of times now and still no sign of Diana. Of course, I’ve instructed my staff to keep on the lookout. I’m so confident of my plans, that I have no doubt she’ll come.

  Why wouldn’t she? I practically insulted her.

  Outrageous, I know. Not really my style, but I had to stand out; I had to improvise. I had to do something other companies wouldn’t do.

  I think about Kane for a moment.

  What I did is right up his alley. And I’m sure the fucker will already have been making moves on her as well. I know because, just like Kane, I also have my sniffers in his ranks.

  Plus, I have people on the lookout around his building. These people are under strict orders not to let Diana go into the building at all costs. They are even instructed to cause a scene if need be.

  I won’t let that fucker called Kane Stone take this from me. Not when I have a say in it.

  I glance at my watch. It’s almost the end of day.

  She should be here by now!

  I feel the urge to panic.

  As you can imagine, I’m not one to fail. Every decision I make is calculated. It’s why sometimes it takes me days to come up with a plan and decide. I don’t fail because I spend a lot of time planning.

  But this Diana problem has tasked me to my limit. And I have the impression that it might only be the beginning.

  I stand and walk over to the edge of my corner office. The walls are paneled entirely with floor to ceiling window panes, giving me quite a breathtaking, scenic view of the city. I can even see as far as the harbor, where dozens of ships lay at berth.

  Maybe it didn’t work, I consider. Maybe I have to do something even
more outrageous.

  Barging into her apartment isn’t looking so fucked up now, is it?

  You’re getting desperate, Derek, I caution myself. Keep it calm. Calm is best. Remember.

  I sigh and heave a deep breath. Just when I think I have a handle on my emotions, I pull out my cell phone from my pocket and dial one of the guys I have watching Kane’s office.

  You might ask, “Why Kane?”

  Well, he’s the only one I know who might want to sabotage me. Having dealt with him for five years since we both started out in the city, I know what I’m saying. I’ve had similar experiences.

  It isn’t news that he has spies in my communication network as I do in his.

  I might be keeping all the cards close to my chest on this one, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t found out about my plans—at the least, he must have an inkling, I know it. Plus, he might have found the girl the same way I did—on the fucking TV.

  Kane didn’t get to be the owner of one of the most successful companies in the United States by being blind to opportunity.

  I spotted Diana. It’s safe to assume Kane has done so, too. I might as well watch to see if he is gunning for her…and stop her before she signs with that motherfucking asshole.

  I know, this is all out there. But I might as well do it to the end, right?

  “Hello?” a tight voice says in the phone.

  “Anything yet?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” the voice replies. There’s a hint of impatience there; this isn’t the first time I’m calling him today.

  “Like I said the last hundred times you called, Mr. Hemsworth,” the guy says with an impudent tone, “the moment I see her going into Kane’s office, I’ll call you and have her stopped. Now stop calling every two minutes and let me do my fucking job.”

  I don’t call you every two minutes!

  I want to lose it, but I don’t. It takes me all my years of practiced calm to keep myself from tearing the guy to shit for his fucking impudence.

  “How do you even intend to stop her?” I ask, purely out of curiosity.

  “It’s better you don’t know,” the man says. Then he chuckles and adds, “It isn’t exactly legal.”

  At that, I hang up. I slip back into my chair and pick up the telephone.

  I dial reception.

  “Hello, sir,” one of the ladies there says in greeting.

  “Is she in yet?” I ask.

  “No, sir,” the lady replies.

  I don’t bother saying anything else. I slam the phone into the cradle and relax into my chair.

  Fuck!

  I’m not used to this level of tension. Not for any deal or contract. Not for any major client. Not even for any model.

  But, Diana … she’s different. There’s just something about her. I still can’t put my finger on it.

  Maybe it has something to do with me pegging the future of my company on her—I do want her to be the face of my firm, after all. And so, when I see her or think of her, I see and think of the future of my company.

  And because I’m practically obsessed with winning and being the best, I’m beginning to obsess about this girl.

  Then maybe you shouldn’t have sent her that message, a rebuking voice says in my mind.

  “Maybe that wasn’t the right call,” I mutter in agreement.

  Before I can begin to regret my decision, the phone rings. Usually, I wait for the fourth ring before I pick. But, today, I answer it before it rings a second time.

  “Speak,” I command.

  “She’s through reception, sir,” the lady says excitedly.

  I feel my heart leap. The next thing would have been to shout in triumph …but that’s not my style.

  Me? Here’s what I do…

  I say, “Noted.”

  And then I hang up the phone.

  I take deep breaths to calm down my nerves, which have been frayed by hours of nervous waiting.

  Fucking success!

  I don’t let the excitement go past my mind. Now that I have her attention, I have to close it. I have to reel her in like a master fisherman, now that she has bitten my bait.

  I’m confident that I can do it. Years and years of experience have taught me how to deal with virtually all kinds of human beings. Diana isn’t going to throw me something I haven’t dealt with several times in the past.

  I take my time to psych myself up, ridding myself of anticipation, and putting on my best poker face. I let a relaxed smile fall on my face as I hear a chime, signaling that someone has exited the elevator.

  I listen intently. So intently I could probably have heard a pin drop.

  I hear a feminine voice—Diana?—yell at my assistant demanding to see me. My assistant, who’s been briefed on what to do, plays her part expertly well. She feigns surprise and refuses to let Diana in.

  I allow the back and forth to go on for a few seconds before I walk out into the foyer. The moment I set my eyes on Diana, I’m immediately overwhelmed.

  Holy fuck!

  The words choke in my thoughts, if that’s even possible. But that’s how stunning she is. So fucking sexy that I immediately go hard…and if you knew me, you’d know I don’t lose control this easily.

  There’s another girl behind her, who I don’t even see; it’s as if she doesn’t exist. I am completely taken by Diana’s perfectly shaped face.

  Her slender and lithe body makes me want to do things to her. Bad fucking things. And she stands so elegantly, I feel my mouth begin to water.

  Even my heart starts to race as my carefully planned closing lines vanish from my memory. I just stand here, looking like a fucking moron.

  But before I can say anything, the elevator opens and Kane saunters into the foyer.

  Trust that bastard to always make an entrance.

  He barges into my office reception, yelling, “No fucking way you’re signing with that asshole!”

  Kane stops the moment he sees us together. He’s fuming at me, while I tightly hold on to my rage.

  Diana turns to look at Kane, confused.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Diana demands of the two of us.

  I ignore her question, immediately focusing my anger on Kane.

  “What the fuck are you doing barging into my office like this, Kane?”

  “I came to stop you from stealing my prize away, motherfucker!” he replies with a venomous tone.

  “She’s not an object to steal, fucker!” I retort, my anger raging hard.

  “Oh, don’t play that line with me, Derek!” Kane replies. “You and I know that you don’t give a rat’s ass about the girls you employ!”

  For a moment, I almost lose it. I threaten to call the cops, but Kane isn’t deterred. We shout at each other, fists clenched, and the only reason we don’t punch the shit out of each other is the fact that Diana’s here.

  She slaps two cards on the desk, causing both of us to shut up and turn to face her.

  “Who the hell do you, guys, think I am, asking me for nudes like this?” she roars.

  I frown, shockingly dumbfounded.

  Kane asked for nudes, too?

  What the fuck?

  10

  Kane

  When I finally get a call about Diana, I didn’t expect it to be about the fact that she’s gone to Derek’s office.

  I almost lose it.

  Scratch that, I actually fucking lose it, yelling as I storm out of my office. I cross the road, run a few yards to their building, and march into Sinful like I own the place.

  Now, I’m in the elevator about to rupture a vein.

  I’m so mad, I think my vision might be reddening with blood. The soft swinging jazz music inside the elevator isn’t helping matters. All I want to do is to fucking walk into that office and start throwing punches.

  I slam my palms against the wall and begin kicking my feet into the side of the elevator. It hasn’t done anything wrong, except that belonging to Sinful. And, in case you haven’t noticed, I f
ucking hate Sinful.

  I wish they’d burn to the ground, all so I could pull out my dick and piss on Derek’s lifelong dream.

  I smile at the imagery as it pops in my mind.

  I imagine myself standing on the smoky ash heap of what was once Sinful’s HQ building. I imagine Derek buried beneath the rubble, trying to claw his way out. And then I imagine myself grinning at him, flipping my cock out of its cage and pissing all over him.

  Fuck Derek!

  The moment the elevator opens, I barge into the foyer yelling for Diana not to sign with that asshole. I’m supposed to launch into my carefully worded tirade next, but I stop short.

  I’m immediately dazzled by the girl’s perfect beauty. I realize that the pictures on the Internet do her a great fucking injustice.

  For a split moment, my mouth hangs open as I look her figure up and down, taking my time to consider her cleavage and ass. The imagery of pissing on Derek’s smoking building immediately changes to one of grinding Diana’s smoking hot ass with my hard cock.

  I don’t snap out of it until she yells at Derek and me. It’s then that I realize Derek hasn’t said anything to her yet. It means that I still have a chance.

  Even if I hate the motherfucker, I’m not stupid enough to think Derek isn’t a great closer. If he already talked to her, then I might as well consider Diana a lost cause.

  But as it is right now, I’m still in the game.

  Might as well beat him to the punch.

  I’m about to speak, when Derek actually beats me to the punch, raising his voice at me and challenging my presence. Before I know it, I’ve lost all my fucking focus. I’m already arguing with that motherfucker before I even realize what the fuck I’m doing.

  It’s been a while since we last argued, yet our rage and hatred for each other is so thick that I wouldn’t be surprised if we both suddenly burst into fucking flames.

  From the corner of my eye, I can see Diana—and the girl who came with her—staring at the two of us in shock. We’re like fucking animals to them right now, I suppose. Battling it out for ultimate supremacy in the fucking jungle.